


Community Service

by LoveandScience



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2018-07-26 19:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 17,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7586707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveandScience/pseuds/LoveandScience
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck gives Lucifer the chance to earn back his place in Heaven. The catch? To do that, Lucifer has to endure living among humanity and being <i>kind</i> to them for twelve months straight. Can he complete his community service and win back his Father's favor, or is he doomed to forever wander the Earth, a fraction of his former power, among these foul creatures?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Conceived/written in collaboration with: http://the-art-student-in-221c.tumblr.com/  
> My tumblr: http://loveandscience.tumblr.com/

“Twelve months?” Lucifer said, mouth hanging open as he stared at his father in equal parts revulsion and surprise.

“Twelve months _if_ you behave the whole time. All the months have to be in a row,” Chuck answered.

The archangel 'humphed,' trying to think of what he could do to weasel out of it or argue, but came up empty for the moment. “But I'm the Devil,” he said weakly, barely even a retort. "There are years of bad PR, mostly from you, saying I can't be good."

“Yes, but you're also an angel, and you used to be compassionate, Lucifer. You were good and kind and you loved your siblings. You even loved me.”

Lucifer crossed his arms and looked down, shuffling a foot slightly. “Be kind to humans for twelve months in a row while living among their filthy, pestering lives. And then I get back in, no strings attached.”

Chuck put a hand on the archangel's shoulder, making Lucifer look up, and smiled. “I have faith in you.”

 

 

* * *

 

The drunk swung at him, cursing about 'being here first' and having 'rights to the woman,' and it all just made Lucifer _pissed_ . He hated humans, he hated them hated them _hated them!_ They weren't worth it, and they never would be! He didn't deserve to be stuck here slumming it with the mud-monkeys!

He easily dodged the punch and countered with one of his own. The man fell to the ground, out cold before he even hit it. With a vicious look around the room, Lucifer stormed out of the bar.

The worst part about rolling in the mud with these filthy creatures was that he didn't even have his full range of powers. He'd tried flying, and been so tired after it that he couldn't even lift his wings for an entire day! A whole day! And he could heal people, because he'd tested that, and it didn't hurt to get kicked in the shin, because he'd unwittingly tested that, too. But that wasn't the same as smiting people with a thought!

He knew, because he'd tested that.

What _was_ being kind to humans, anyway? They lied, cheated, stole, and killed each other all the time. They were used to that, so what was he supposed to do?

“Sir?”

Lucifer turned toward the voice, finding a demon looking at him with curiosity. Wretched things. Humans, boiled down and concentrated into the very worst versions of themselves. And yet, they revered him as their God, because they thought he was just like them.

Maybe he was.

“Out for a joyride?” Lucifer indicated the meatsuit, cracking a half-smile.

The demon grinned. “Want to test drive the body with me?” he winked.

“Well,” he sauntered forward, coming an inch away from him, “I think that sounds like a lot of fun, really,” he smiled. Lucifer's fingers touched either side of the demon's face as he leaned in. But with a split-second of horror, he remembered he couldn't smite. He had options, though. No need to panic. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus—”

“Sir!” The demon tried to yank away, but Lucifer's arm went around the body, gripping tight. “omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio—”

On the quiet street, Lucifer exorcised a demon, and the human it had been possessing fled in terror.

“You're welcome,” he spat, glaring after the mud-monkey. “I save your life, and this is the thanks I get. Typical,” he mumbled, heading off to find something to do.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Sir, if you're going to read that, you need to pay,” the clerk drawled in a bored tone from the register at the front of the gas station.

Lucifer lowered the open nude magazine to smile wickedly at her. “I don't carry money. Haven't you heard it's the root of all evil?”

“Then I'm going to have to ask you to leave,” she said, still uninterested.

“And if I don't?”

The clerk sighed, reaching for the phone. “Then I'll have to call the cops.”

Lucifer let out a loud, put-upon sigh. “You're no fun at all!” He put the magazine back on the rack and stood, sticking out his lower lip in a pout. “I know when I'm not wanted,” he said, and started to leave.

Two masked figures rushed in from the night, brandishing guns. One headed for the cash register while the other pointed at Lucifer, ready to stop him from interfering.

Like he could. _Hah._

“What is this, _Dick and Jane_?” Lucifer smirked, then lunged forward, grabbing the gun from the surprised robber. With two quick shots to the robbers' heads, he watched their bodies fall before pocketing the gun and walking out, ignoring the screams of the clerk as they became quieter and quieter.

Interacting with humans was tiring, and maybe it was kinder just to stay out of their way.


	2. Chapter 2

The smell of raspberry pancakes drifted through the supposedly-vacant motel room, waking Lucifer from a dreamless sleep. Sleeping seemed to recharge him somewhat faster, although he didn't have to do it. He stood up from the hard bed, stretching loudly and blinking several times before his vessel's vision adjusted.

A short stack on a plate was presented to him, before he saw the man behind the dish. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”

“Great, Dad,” the archangel said, taking the pancakes and heading toward the dinky table by the window. “I'm in a cheap room that they never rent out because of the roach infestation, which I _kindly_ took care of behind their backs. Whenever I leave this craphole, it's like the demons are attracted to me, so they possess people and swarm me, despite that I exorcise them every time. The humans aren't grateful at all for it, so half the town won't go near me anymore. But my Dad's here in questionable attire with pancakes, so that makes it all better.” Lucifer scoffed, angrily cutting a bite with his fork. “I can't believe I have to do this for eleven more months.”

Chuck studied his, well, _Dean's_ , bathrobe, then looked back up to his son. “About that,” he smiled sheepishly, sitting across from him. “Lucifer, killing people doesn't exactly count as behaving.”

“What?” Lucifer stopped eating, not liking where this was going. “Come on, it wasn't that many!”

“Thirteen.”

He stomped a foot and screwed up his face as an angry, sharp groan left his lips. “Daaaaaaaaad!” he complained, throwing his body forward to rest his arms folded on the table, head on them and making a pout. “Come on!”

Chuck resisted rolling his eyes. “Pest control and exorcisms are a good start, but I think you can do better. And no more killing people. I'll let you start over your time, today.”

“I don't wanna start over! I barely lasted this long! And I'm all alone!” Lucifer sat back, crossing his arms and looking pointedly away from his father and instead at the wall. “And you waited a whole month before telling me that all this time was for nothing! It's not fair!”

“Technically, it was three weeks and four days.”

“Dad!”

Chuck held his hands up. “Okay, okay. I kept hoping you'd figure it out on your own, that's why I waited. But you can do this, I know you can! You just have to apply yourself.”

“You just have to apply yourself,” Lucifer mocked, and stuck out his forked tongue.

God sighed, standing. “About demons being attracted to you, I'd recommend you keep moving. And if you feel lonely, try making a friend.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Pastor James warmly shook the hand of every congregation member as they exited, fondly wishing all safe driving and small blessings for the troubles they had shared during the morning's prayers. When everyone had left, he pat the shoulder of the minister beside him. “Why don't all of you go on ahead and get the table at Biggerson's? I'll close up and meet you there.”

Alone, he hummed happily to himself as he performed the lock-up procedure, turning down lights and checking side rooms for any stragglers he might not have noticed earlier.

“Father?”

The Pastor jumped.

“I startled you, sorry about that,” the man apologized, but there was something under it like humor.

“No, it's okay, I just thought everyone had gone from the main room.” He set the bibles he was carrying into their proper holders in the pew. “How can I help you, Mr....,” he paused, waiting for the man to identify himself.

“Lu- Luke. My name's Luke,” Lucifer said, holding out a hand. Pastor James thought Luke held it a little too long.

“You look like you could use some talking,” the Pastor said, sitting down and patting the bench space next to him.

Lucifer sat. “You could say that. Maybe some advice.”

“Often, the answers are within ourselves. But I'll do what I can. What seems to be the matter, Luke?”

“Well, see, my Dad and I haven't gotten along in aaaaages,” Lucifer explained. “But he told me that if I can be kind to people for an entire year, twelve months back to back, he'd let me come home. And my family might even talk to me again, which I'm not sure how to feel about, because they never had much sympathy for me and just assumed Dad was right.”

“What happened between you and your father cut deeply. So, he's asking you to be kind?”

Lucifer let out a soft sigh. “Yeah. But what does that mean? I tried stopping robberies and getting rid of some roaches at a motel, then Dad comes to me and says that wasn't what he meant! It didn't count, now I have to start the whole year over again!”

“I cannot begin to speak for what your father wants, but perhaps you should start small. Volunteer with a charity. Use your funds for those in need. I'm sure you meant well, but stopping robberies sounds more like vigilantism than kindness. Kindness comes from helping people out of a selfless desire, acting in the other person's best interest.” Pastor James smiled gently. “Find people you care about and give to them, expecting nothing in return. Give of your love and efforts.”

A long silence passed as Lucifer mulled over the words. “Well,” he said eventually, “where's a good place to start volunteering?”


	3. Chapter 3

Lucifer held the list of volunteer organizations from Pastor James, studying it as he walked back to his motel room. None of the places seemed to really jump out at him, but then again, they probably weren't ever going to. He wasn't the 'sharing is caring' type, and this Year of Kindness was just a means to an end. He figured he might as well start at the top of the list and work his way down. It was as good a strategy as any.

He stood outside the soup kitchen, scrutinizing the dirty building. Was he really going to go in there? Eating was so... human.

With a groan, he uncrossed his arms and propelled himself forward, shoving the door open.

The man at the administration desk looked up, a kind expression. "How can I help you?"

Lucifer smiled. "I'm here as a volunteer, I want to help _you_. How do I do that?"

"Oh," the man said, happily surprised, and stood. "Thank you, we could always use another set of hands. I'll have you fill out some forms, and then get you started!"

"Forms?"

"Oh, yes," the man handed him a stack of papers. "Standard procedure. I'll need some form of ID. We need to know who's back there, of course."

Lucifer stared at the pages, no idea how to answer what his date of birth was. He felt something in his pocket and reached in, curious. Just his wallet. He frowned, opening it, and found a driver's license. "Oh, sweet," he grinned, imagining stealing a car and driving straight out of this dull town.

The clerk furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Oh, I, uh, I thought I might have left this at home, but apparently I didn't, so here," he handed his ID over, memorizing the fake date of birth written on the license.

He filled out the forms as best he could, and the man, Peter, looked over them quickly, then returned the license and ushered Lucifer back. Day one of being kind, starting fresh. He could do this.

* * *

 

Lucifer offered his hand as he met the other volunteers. "Hi, name's Luke, nice to meet you," he grinned, trying not to sound as sarcastic as he felt. "So," he clapped his hands together, "what can I do here to help?"

Cleaning tables. Archangel, Devil, one of the most powerful creatures in the universe. And he was here cleaning tables for his father's filthy, smelly toys. What was the point of them, anyway? Dad didn't really play with them, he just watched them, like they watched fish in a bowl. Boring! Much more fun to smash and break.

A dirty lady smiled at him, placing her hand on his. Forcing himself not to yank the appendage away and suppressing the urge to split her head on a pike, he tried to smile back.

"There's something about you," she said, and started to dig her nails in.

Lucifer yanked away, the disgust no longer hidden. "Get off of me, you filthy human!" Other people looked up, and he desperately composed his features. "I- She scratched me!" he said defensively. "Look, it drew blood!" he held up his hand, nail marks barely visible, and certainly no bleeding.

"Okay, Luke, come with me," one of the other volunteers said, taking his arm. Lucifer stared back at the woman in revulsion and hatred, but let himself be led away. He was sentenced to peel potatoes, and he imagined it was the woman's flesh.

* * *

 

Bored stiff, Lucifer left the soup kitchen when his expected shift was up, bitterly agreeing to return next Sunday. He kicked a rock down the sidewalks and streets until he was back to his room, then threw himself on the bed and let out a whining groan.

This was so unfair! This was so pointless! Why should he be punished? None of the angels liked the humans, except maybe Castiel and Gabriel, but they were the exception! And Jack, who wanted nothing to do with him, but he didn't really count, because he was a nephilim. Point is, _he_ was being punished for hating humanity, but none of the other angels were. Why was he being singled out?

He rolled over and waved his hand, turning on the TV. He watched humans cry and celebrate about petty, human things, until he was so bored he fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Monday. 8:03 A.M. Lucifer looked away from the clock and stood up with a long-suffering sigh. He cleaned himself, adjusted his clothing, and stepped outside. The next place on the list was an animal shelter. Lucifer wasn't particularly fond of animals, but at least they didn't whine as much as humans. Maybe today would be better.

He had to fill out more forms at the shelter, as well as go through an interview process, and then was told he could go home until they could verify his identity, that they would call, or he could start by just socializing with the animals. Apparently there was more scrutiny for animals than there was for humans, like even humans knew they were less important. Having no better options that fit with his Father's goal, Lucifer slumped down in a room with an over-eager dog. Ugh.

The dog wagged its tail as it bounded up to him, a small thing that barely made it to his knee when it stood on its hind legs. He bent down, picked it up, and held it in front of his face. Smelly thing. Fitting for humans, he supposed. The dog licked his nose happily, oblivious, and Lucifer laughed darkly. "I bet you're so stupid, you could be trained to kill whoever I told you to. Or bite them. Or pee on their shoe."

Another lick was the response Lucifer got. The archangel shifted the dog into the crook of his elbow and sat, mindlessly petting him as he stared at the place the wall met the ceiling. "Isn't this a waste of my power, Dad?" he asked, but was met with silence. He sighed, leaning his head back against the wall.

It turned out the dog had been an anomaly. Maybe genetically lacking judgment. The other dogs refused to approach him, choosing to stay in their crates and glare darkly rather than be touched by him. He tried visiting the cats, but they flattened their ears and hissed, ready to strike if he tried to touch them. Even the guinea pigs and bunnies wouldn't come close. The lone turtle hid in its shell.

Fed up, he called it a day, slumping back to the gross motel room he was forced to live in.

By afternoon, he was bored and decided to go out. The bar was probably not a good option, so he wandered to a grocery store, figuring he might as well walk around looking at things there.

"Luke?"

He turned at the voice to find Pastor James smiling at him. He smiled back. "Father," he said, "fancy seeing you here." It was ridiculous, how these people were supposed to be called "Father." There was no Father more father-y than his own Father.

"Please, just James while I'm off duty. How is that list working out for you?"

Lucifer shrugged. "I've checked off the first two, and I'm trying the next tomorrow. It gives me something to keep busy with, at least. So, thank you," he said, hoping he passed as grateful. James seemed like someone he wanted to have on his side. And what had Dad said about finding a friend? He didn't do friends, but he did collect people to use to assuage boredom.

"I'm impressed with your dedication. I get the sense that you're new to town? I've never seen you before, and I know almost everyone here."

"Yeah, you could say that," Lucifer crossed his arms. "I pretty much just know you."

Something passed through James' eyes. "Then let me welcome you to town over a cup of coffee."

* * *

The Pastor had invited him to his home, and Lucifer accepted more out of boredom than anything. Learning "Luke" had no car, he offered to drive, as well. James rattled on about nothing important, and the archangel minimally kept up his side of the conversation until they reached the house.

"Come in," James welcomed, holding the door open for Lucifer. "I'll get these groceries away, then brew up a pot. Would you mind carrying a few bags?"

"Uh, yeah, okay, if I'm getting coffee out of it," Lucifer said, winking before picking up two paper grocery bags and heading in.

James chuckled. "You're a charmer. Thank you."

Lucifer set the bags on the counter and sat himself at the table, not bothering to wait for invitation. James didn't mention it, and began stowing the groceries. "So," Lucifer said, looking around, "where's the missus?"

"Oh, well, there isn't one," James said. "I live by myself. You know," he hummed thoughtfully, "I just had the darnedest idea. Where are you staying? If you don't already have a house, you're welcome to stay here, or at the church shelter if you're more comfortable with that option."

Looks like he'd been right on the money when he thought James could be useful to know. "Absolutely," he said, trying to act grateful. "I've been staying at the motel in town, and it's been awful. The roaches, the smell, the people-- this would be a total upgrade. Are you sure?" He looked into James' eyes; as if James had a choice. It would be easy to make James do this, but better if James brought it on himself.

James lit up. "Really? It'd be so nice to have company until you got on your feet."

"So nice," Lucifer agreed, grin widening.


	5. Chapter 5

James set “Luke” up in the guest room, reminding him to help himself to anything in the kitchen and to make himself at home. How trusting and stupid could one human be? Lucifer scoffed. Inviting a stranger to stay with you and being extra warm about it? The archangel rolled his eyes, even though James’ back was turned, just for effect.

“And here are some towels,” James said with a satisfied air of finality, turning around and setting a stack in Lucifer’s arms. “You know,” he put his hands on his hips, still smiling, “this’ll be fun! Like an extended sleepover!”

“Absolutely,” Lucifer agreed sweetly. “Maybe we can make s’mores.”

“That’s the best idea!” he looked genuinely excited. “You know, I haven’t had s’mores since I went camping in 10th grade. I don’t know why. Just forgot about them, I guess.”

Lucifer tossed the towels on the bed. “Of course, that means another grocery trip. But I can run out and get them, my treat.” He eyed James, wondering absently what the Pastor’s meatsuit would be like to inhabit. Certainly financially, it would be an upgrade to take him.

“Really? You don’t mind?” James asked, digging in his pocket. “You can take my car, so you don’t have to walk.”

“Not at all,” Lucifer said, taking the keys. This was going to be fun. But also James was ridiculous, giving his car keys to a stranger.

* * *

 

“Okay,” Lucifer said to himself as he sat behind the steering wheel. “If mud monkeys can do this, so can I. They always grab this,” he put his hands on the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. “Okay, car. Go!”

Nothing happened.

“Come on, rust bucket, you need something else from me? The power of The Devil compels you!”

The car hummed along as it continued to stay in place.

Pastor James knocked on the car window, and Lucifer hit buttons until it rolled down, the windshield wipers flying to life. James looked happy as ever, but concerned, too.

“I forgot to mention, it’s a stick shift. Some people aren’t trained on those, these days.”

“Oh, that must be what’s going on,” Lucifer opened the car door and James moved to let him. “Maybe I’ll just walk.”

“That’s fine, or I could show you how it works if you like. No time like the present to learn. But only if you’re up for it. Or I can just go to the store myself, I don’t want to put you out.”

Well, it could be useful to know, in case he ever needed it. Without his full strength, it might just happen. “How nice, thank you,” he grinned, and James grinned back, coming around to get in the passenger side.

James leaned over and tapped Lucifer’s thigh. “Now you’ll just move this leg, here,” he instructed, then took his hand, “and your hand goes here,” he placed it on the shift control.

Lucifer stared at James. Humans got killed for touching him. Rage festered, but he clamped down on it, knowing he needed to control himself. James was useful, that meant it wasn’t a good idea to lose it on him.

* * *

 

With a lot of stalling and stop-and-go, they eventually made it to the grocery and back. James was overly congratulatory, which was irritating, and by the time they were back, Lucifer didn’t have the patience. “You know,” he fake yawned, stretching his arms up, “after all that, I’m pretty tired. I think I’m gonna get to bed early.”

The Pastor’s face fell, then just as quickly returned to that constant happy grin. “Oh. Well, that’s certainly understandable, but I do hope you’ll come out for dinner later on. I’ll have it ready in maybe an hour. We can make s’mores another time.”

Lucifer made a hasty exit, sick and tired of humans. What was their deal, anyway? He paced around his room, feeling like he was back in The Cage. Nowhere to go, no real entertainment, no satisfaction. Heaven had also reminded him of it. Nowhere to go, nothing to do, even as the King. All there was was anger and hatred and pain. Nothing good left inside, burned away by Dad’s betrayal, Dad’s abandonment, Michael’s betrayal and abandonment, the loss of his family and home. Home that wasn’t home anymore.

He didn’t realize he’d put his fist through the wall until James knocked at the door.

“Luke? I heard a loud noise, I’m just checking to make sure you’re okay,” he called through the door.

Lucifer looked to see a dented metal bar in the wall, and he pulled his hand away from it. “Yeah, I’m fine, I just, uh, just tripped. Everything’s fine, don’t worry.”

“Are you sure? Can I get you something to drink or a snack or anything before you head to bed?”

Was there no end to this man’s gullibility and insistence to give? “No.”

A pause. “Okay. Well, let me know if you think of anything.” Footsteps, and Lucifer sensed him retreating.

He sat on the bed with a huff and closed his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

It was night and the house was quiet when Lucifer awakened, and he found a note taped to the outside of his door. It was just James letting him know that a plate of food was set in the fridge for him to have whenever he was hungry.

He wasn’t hungry, but something felt wrong about not eating it. Maybe it was that he was worried if he didn’t take James up on enough of the kindness, James would stop trying, and then Lucifer would be alone again. Not like he couldn’t handle that, but he just didn’t feel like it. That was all.

He removed the plate, then had an idea. A couple miles away there was a bridge where he’d noticed a tent, probably belonging to someone homeless. Wasting the food didn’t make sense, and he’d probably get brownie points with Dad if he gave it to someone in real need.

Lucifer made his way out to the car, stealing James’ keys from the counter, and set the plate in the passenger seat. He started up the car and slowly backed out of the driveway.

All was going well, James’ driving lesson had paid off. He made his way through the night, reaching down to fiddle with the radio out of boredom. This wasn’t so hard.

A siren and the sudden appearance of red and blue lights surprised him, and he stopped the car. That’s what you were supposed to do, right? He rolled down the window and cut the engine.

“Sir, do you know what speed you were going?”

“What? What are you talking about?” How was he supposed to know, let alone understand how to translate that into human measurements. It was less than half of light speed, he was sure of that…

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the car. Have you been drinking?”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

“Alright, buddy, I’m going to have to take you in if you can’t cooperate. Please step out of the vehicle, and keep your hands where I can see them.”

Fuming, Lucifer opened the door and got out of the car, knowing he couldn’t snap his fingers and end this human’s life. If he wanted to kill her, he’d have to do it some other way.

“Please walk along this line,” the officer instructed, gesturing where she wanted him to walk.

His eyes burned red, wondering if murdering this ant was worth starting over again on his twelve months. He was only a few days in, after all. As he pondered, he walked the line.

The officer made him do a few more things, checked his license, then instructed him back to the car. “Listen, Mr. Shurley, you were driving ten miles under the speed limit, that’s why I pulled you over. You seem to be sober, so I’m going to let you off with a warning. It’s also in your best interest to be more respectful to officers of the law in the future. Got it?”

Lucifer nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

As she pulled away, he let out the breath he’d been holding and leaned forward on to the steering wheel, making a few short noises of displeasure. All he’d tried was to do what he was supposed to do, and apparently he was going too slowly for the humans. They were all slow. So how much was the right amount of slow?

When she was out of sight, he drove until he noticed a sign to the right saying “SPEED LIMIT 30,” so he searched around the numbers on the dashboard. There was a needle going up and down more than the others that responded to the gas pedal, so Lucifer tested it until he got it to match up with “30,” hoping that's what was meant by the 'speed limit.'

Eventually, he made it to the bridge and parked the car on the side of the road, grabbing the plate and slamming the car door behind him. A head peeked out of the tent, eyes blinking sleepily.

“Here,” he shoved the plate toward the head, which was joined by a body stepping out of the shelter. As soon as the plate was out of Lucifer’s hands, he started toward the car.

“Thank you,” the person said quietly.

* * *

 

Lucifer managed to get a little more sleep that night, out of boredom more than anything, and woke up to James knocking on the door.

“Luke, I made pancakes! Come and get ‘em when you’re ready!”

Lucifer groaned, rolling out of bed, and answered the door. “Oh, wow,” he smiled at James, “how thoughtful. I’m just gonna, uh, be one minute,” he said, then closed the door.

“Okay,” James said before it was shut.

After some time to gather his strength for another day of having to be patient with people, Lucifer left his room. He found James in the kitchen, waiting at the table and sipping juice, food untouched.

“Ah, please, sit,” James said, obnoxiously pleasant. “Help yourself,” he gestured to the stack of pancakes in the middle of the table.

Lucifer sat, then carefully picked one pancake off the stack and studied it before biting into it. He noticed James take two and set them on the plate, pouring something sugary on. “There’s syrup,” he offered, setting it next to Lucifer’s hand before readying his fork and knife. “Have as many as you want, and I can always make more if we need them.”

Lucifer put his pancake down and put the sugary stuff on his pancake as he’d seen James do. James beamed, taking small bites from his fork, and Lucifer copied him with his own fork and knife.

“Oh,” James paused, “I almost forgot. Coffee is on the counter,” he got up, grabbed the two mugs, and set them on the table. “There. I don’t know if you drink coffee every morning, but there’s plenty of that, too.”

“That’s great,” Lucifer said awkwardly, managing to finish the molecule-y pancake and moving to stand. “Today I’m going to try out that mentor program you told me about.”

“That’s great! Oh, by the way, will you bring that plate from last night’s dinner back to the kitchen? I want to wash it before it attracts bugs.”

Lucifer blinked. “Yeah, sure, of course.” So he’d have to stop back and retrieve it from the homeless kid.

* * *

 

With a tupperware of “pancakes for the road, plus a lunch in case you want to stay out longer,” Lucifer stopped by the bridge and kicked a small rock toward the tent. “Hey, you in there?” he asked, and the same head popped out in response.

“Listen, kid, I need that plate back. But I brought pancakes, and, uh,” he inspected the lunch container, “some sort of sandwich.”

The kid nodded and disappeared back into the tent, quickly coming back out with the plate. “Thank you,” he said, handing it back and accepting the food Lucifer held out to him.

“Yeah, whatever. I don’t need it, so,” he shrugged, and started heading toward town.

The mentor program required a background check, too, as well as fingerprints. He was instructed to head to the sheriff’s department and given directions on how to get there. Bored out of his skull, Lucifer did what was asked of him before heading back home.


	7. Chapter 7

Lucifer begrudgingly went through the motions of establishing himself at 7 different organizations, figuring once he was accepted into the programs, he would at least have something different to do every day. It was boring enough as it was, it didn’t need to be completely monotonous.

On Sunday, James invited him to church, and Lucifer agreed to it simply because he didn’t think James would keep letting him stay at his house, otherwise.

He took a seat at the back, which seemed to make James sad for exactly one second, then waited, bored, as the congregation filled in the seats.

James was a good speaker, Lucifer could give him that. He didn’t focus on punishment or any of that ‘fire and brimstone’ rhetoric; the topic was kindness and how giving to others was not only nourishing to yourself, but had the power to bring more light and love into the world. It was great publicity for Lucifer's Father, just the kind of thing his followers believed themselves to be about. But James actually lived it. James was a true exception, and he could see people really buying into the stuff because of that. Because they must know how James is.

“I have a question,” Lucifer asked as they drove home together.

“I’m here for counsel any time,” James said, “if you were hoping to pick up where we left off last week.”

“Well, yeah, maybe. So, my father, the one I mentioned before, he was… not always there for us. He raised us until we were old enough, but as soon as I made a big choice he didn’t agree with, he walked out. On all of us, not just me. Everyone thinks he’s this great guy, but he abandoned us, and I get all the blame.”

James grew serious, something Lucifer preferred to the smile that was normally there. “Well,” he said, after a few moments of thought, “it’s rare that people leave over one thing. Usually it’s a lot of things, but there’s a tendency to make it about one thing so that we can more easily understand it and feel more power over the situation. If we say, ‘all I had to do was X and things would have been fine,’ we make ourselves powerful, because we could have ‘easily’ not done X. But in reality, thing A through W happened, too, and it was too much for any one person to fix alone. Interpersonal problems are inherently shared, although with parents it weighs more on them. So, I sincerely doubt it was one thing that made your father leave when he did, and you certainly don’t deserve to shoulder the blame. The rest of your family probably had some part in it, and your father should have addressed the issue instead of giving up.”

Lucifer frowned. “So you’re saying it’s not all my fault?”

“Why should it be? There aren’t a lot of exceptions to that rule. I don’t know what happened, but I don’t get the sense from you that the one thing you did was bad enough to rip your family apart all on it’s own.”

The archangel watched the passing scenery. “Would you have the same sympathy for all of God’s children?”

James looked at him briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “I don’t know. Empathy, probably. I would certainly try to feel for whoever I could, even if I didn’t immediately have compassion.”

“Even for The Devil?”

James patted Lucifer’s leg. “You’re not evil, Luke, if that’s what you’re implying. But sure, The Devil probably needs it more than anyone.”

* * *

 

Lucifer hid away in his room, uncomfortable with what James had said. He didn’t _need_ anything except his Father to be remorseful and not turn his back on him again.

James eventually knocked to invite him to lunch, then dinner, but Lucifer ignored him both times. His thoughts became too much, and he tore the clock from the wall, smashing it into the floor. He didn’t answer James’ frantic knocks, instead just throwing more things. He was so angry, trapped again by his father’s whim, left to figure out how to somehow be what Dad wanted but with no real guidance, just solitary confinement among mud monkeys. Barely any powers.

He let out a ferocious yell, lifting the desk and throwing it through the wall. He didn’t care how angry James would be. Didn’t care if he got kicked out. In fact, he’d probably be better off killing James after he wrecked this room. He swung his foot, putting it through the bed frame. He threw a book into the ceiling fan, which crashed down next to him and sent glass shattering.

The door clicked open, and James stared, stricken.

“Luke,” he said softly, taking in the damage around him.

Lucifer stared back at him defiantly, waiting for the slightest provocation.

James started to step forward, as if to touch him.

And then Lucifer was gone.

* * *

 

Lucifer went back to the same motel room that he’d left almost a week ago, having nowhere else he could think of to go. Trapped. He was trapped here. If he could just get through twelve months, just manage to fool his father long enough, he could get his full powers back. And then what? There was no peace, no joy, anywhere. Hurting people and smashing things felt good when he did it, but the feeling never lasted.

By morning, he’d pulled himself together enough to go through the motions at the animal shelter. The animals rejected him again, except for the yapper. He sat with it, holding it and absently petting it until hours passed and he had the energy to leave.

* * *

 

“Everything checked out,” the director at the mentor program said, handing Lucifer a file. “Based on your questionnaire, we thought Connor would be a good match for you. I’ll let you read his file, and we can talk more after.”

Lucifer was left to sift through the documents of abuse reports, court reports, and demographics. He didn’t feel much; this was just another human who’d suffered at the hands of more humans.

“Any questions?” the director asked, when Lucifer turned in the file.

Lucifer shrugged. “I don’t know. What do kids like to do? How exactly do I help him?”

“Uh, well, let’s see,” she put the file back in her drawer. “You could take him out to eat, or for a walk a the park, or to the movies. It depends what he likes. Maybe there’s a sport you could play together? The main thing is being there for him, being a safe place for him to express himself.”

“Great,” Lucifer said, feeling dead inside.

“We have an all day training this Friday, which will help answer any questions you have about how this process works. Once you complete that, you’ll call his foster parents to set up a first meeting.”


	8. Chapter 8

_Sunday – Soup Kitchen_

_Monday – Animal Shelter_

_Tuesday – on reserve for when he would start mentoring_

_Wednesday – Food Bank_

_Thursday – Retirement Home_

_Friday – Mental Health Services Agency, putting out cookies and crap like that_

_Saturday – Reading at the Library_

 

Most of these hadn’t started yet, but he checked in with the different agencies on the appointed days, walking all over town on foot. It was something to occupy his time, but all he felt was steady oscillation between boredom and rage.

* * *

 

Connor was a scrawny, standoffish kid. He followed Lucifer outside, but stopped short. “Wait, you don’t have a car?” he asked, skeptical.

“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t. But there are plenty of places to get to on foot if you’re not lazy, so let’s go,” Lucifer snapped.

“Man, this blows. I’d rather just stay here.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. “Fine, we’ll stay here and play a board game. I don’t really care.”

“Fine,” Connor shrugged, “I bet you whine like a wuss when you lose.”

The archangel followed him back inside, Connor’s foster parents looking on in confusion.

“Dumbass doesn’t have a car,” the boy said, walking past the parents without looking at them.

Lucifer smiled at them, a small fake laugh escaping, then followed Connor to the living room where the boy was pulling checkers down from a shelf. He tried to adopt a parental tone, but it came across without confidence. “You- uh, you should show your foster parents some more respect than that, you know.”

“Shut up and get ready to lose, loser.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Just tell me how to play.”

Connor gave a look of incredulity. “You don’t know how to play checkers? What, did you grow up under a rock?”

“More like in the pits of Hell,” Lucifer mumbled.

Connor laughed. “Same. Anyway, red or black?”

“Red.”

“Just arrange them like I do, on your side of the board.”

* * *

 

Lucifer slogged through the next few weeks, directionless except for his tasks. He was killing time in a bookstore when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled around, ready for a fight, only to find the two people he least wanted to see in the entire universe.

“What are you two bozos doing here,” he crossed his arms, slipping into the carefree mask he always had around the Winchesters.

“Heard you were in town,” Dean said darkly.

Sam looked over at his brother, then back at Lucifer. “Chuck asked if we’d drop by,” he answered. “He asked us to check in on you, see how we think things are going.”

“Right, ‘cause my old Dad could never be bothered to check in on me himself.” He raised his fingers in quotation marks, “God works in mysterious ways,” he mimicked in an airy voice.

“Look, Chuck told us what the deal he made with you was, and apparently you’re holding up your end of it. But maybe he wants to see if you slip up when we’re around, I don’t know. We didn’t exactly get to question him,” Sam said.

“Yeah, and we’re going to be checking about that deal, thoroughly. Talking to everyone in town. You better be absolutely squeaky clean,” Dean added.

Talking to _everyone_? Well, that was fine, except… James. He’d trashed James’ house, there was no way he was getting a good report there. There was only one solution. Get to James before they did.

“Well, go right ahead,” Lucifer gave a mocking bow. “As for me, I’d prefer to be around you as little as possible, so I will bid you adieu.”


	9. Chapter 9

James opened the door with bright, kind eyes that shouldn’t have softened further at the sight of Lucifer. “Luke, I’ve been so worried,” he said gently, stepping inside to invite him in. “Please, come in.”

Lucifer stepped inside, looking around to see nothing had really changed. There was no reason why it should have. “I’m no expert, but shouldn’t you be angry with me or freaking out because you saw me vanish into thin air?” he asked, having no idea where to start this conversation. He was going to have to apologize if he wanted James to give a good report to the Winchesters, and like his father, that wasn’t something he was any good at.

“And what would that accomplish? Luke, you absolutely destroyed that room. The amount of pain you must have been in… It doesn’t make it okay, but it doesn’t make me hate you. Things can be fixed, it’s just…” he sighed. “Why don’t we sit down?”

Lucifer followed him to the living room and sat on the couch 90 degrees from the one James sat on. He stared at his feet, trying to figure out what to say.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” James said softly. “I think maybe you were angry because I’m a complete stranger, and I was saying compassionate, caring things to you. The kind of things you maybe didn’t hear from your family. That a stranger could see goodness in you and not your own flesh and blood, I think that would hurt an awful lot.”

“Flesh and blood is… not the best term for it.”

“Maybe not,” James agreed. “You don’t have to tell me what you are, but I _would_ appreciate if you could fix the room.”

Lucifer didn’t know why that made him smile. Maybe because if that was all he had to do, it wasn’t a big deal to get James to lie to the Winchester’s for him? “I’ll do it,” he said, “is there anything else I need to do to make up for it?”

“No, that was the only real damage.”

“Good,” Lucifer crossed his arms and looked up at James, “because there are people who came to town that are going to be asking about me. Checking up on me for my Dad about this whole ‘kindness’ thing.”

“I see,” James replied. “So you’d like me to tell them you’ve been holding up your end of the deal?”

“If you could,” Lucifer said, “I mean, if you need me to sweeten our deal-”

James shook his head, cutting him off. “No, no. I’ll give a good report, I promise.”

“Great,” he stood. “If that’s all, I’ll get that room back to normal in a flash, and be out of your hair.”

He crossed the room and turned down the hall, opening the door to the guest room. The full impact of the mess hit him, and his eyes flashed red. The Pastor hadn’t touched it, so everything looked as it did that night.

_Trapped. Betrayed by his father. Exiled and alone._

He snapped his fingers, but nothing changed. “What? No, no, no. Come on!” he yelled, looking upward. “I’m helping, here! Let me use my grace!”

“An angel?” James asked quietly.

Lucifer spun around, glared at the man, then turned back to the mess. “What’s this supposed to teach me, huh? Penance to a human who means nothing to me? I can clean this up like a damned mud monkey, but it doesn’t mean anything!”

“Luke… Lucifer...” James breathed, taking a step back.

Lucifer smiled at him. “Cat’s out of the bag, no stuffing it back in. Why don’t you go have a seat while I work on cleaning this up?” he instructed.

James nodded, swallowing thickly, and hurried away.

Alone at last, Lucifer scanned the room. Where to start?

* * *

 

One trip to the hardware store later—using James’ car and credit card, of course— Lucifer arranged the materials in the guest room as the sun began to set. He heard James going about his normal night routine, taking a shower and watching a tv show, and wondered if James would dare go back on his deal. He bent the metal in the wall back in place, then started patching the hole, careful with his work.

He hadn’t built anything in so long. Eons. Back then, it had been planets and stars, right alongside his father. Repairing the damage from Amara. He had once been a creator, not a solely destructive force.

After all they had done together, to have turned on him, it still didn’t make sense. The apology hadn’t been enough. There was so much more history, so much pain to account for. A father, _the_ father, wasn’t supposed to abandon his children, wasn’t supposed to punish them with a complete withdrawal of affection.

He patched another hole in the wall, wishing his anger could be fixed so easily. He was so angry, he couldn’t remember any other emotions, hadn’t felt them in so long. There had been brief hope, with Jack, but that had been wasted.

The ceiling fan was a little tricky, and the light bulb on it had to be replaced, but he got it back up and patched the holes around it where it had been ripped through. He reattached the broken bits of furniture, making sure they held steady before putting the little décor pieces back on top. He had to run out to the store again to replace the clock, as that wasn’t repairable, but soon the room was pretty much in shape. The only thing he couldn’t fix was a ceramic vase, but he tried to glue it back together anyway.

By the time he came out, finished, James was eating breakfast and scrolling through something on his phone.

“Well, that’s about as good as it’s gonna get,” Lucifer said, trying for a carefree smile. “Tell me it’s all good, and I’ll be on my way.”

James put his phone down. “I-” he looked down, then back up. “You don’t have to go, you know.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not. You-, well, you were staying here for a reason, before. You didn’t have anywhere to go besides a motel. You’ve been through a lot and you were willing to make amends, even if it’s just because you want me to vouch for you whenever these people come by. Anyway, I’m not rescinding my offer just because of who you are. And I meant what I said, before. Out of everyone, you’re probably the one who could use some kindness and understanding the most, more than anything else. The way you put it, how God treated you… maybe there’s a reason you ended up in this town. I’m not saying I think I’m supposed to save you, but maybe you’re not just supposed to give kindness. Maybe you’re supposed to get it, too. You don’t have to stay, but you can, if you wish to.”


	10. Chapter 10

James approved the room, complimenting Lucifer’s dedication to the task. The archangel felt a small sense of pride in his work. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed creating.

It was Thursday, so Lucifer made his way to the retirement home, agreeing to consider returning to live with James before he left. James dropped him off around ten and handed Lucifer a cheap phone.

“Before you left, I got you this. I’d noticed you didn’t have a phone, so… feel free to call me if you need anything. Even if it’s just a ride somewhere. My number’s programmed in.”

Lucifer looked at him, eyes locking on to James’ dark ones. It took a few moments to look away, and he coughed. “That would be extremely useful. And it was much better driving here than having to walk.”

“You’re welcome,” James smiled.

“I didn’t thank you,” Lucifer retorted sourly, getting out of the car.

“You aren’t one for ‘thank you’s,’ I’ve noticed. Nonetheless,” he said, watching the archangel go.

Lucifer ignored him, heading for the building.

The place was quiet, as usual, and he headed past the front desk with a nod to make his rounds. Usually just a short conversation with each resident about whatever inane subject they felt the need to talk about, that was his mission.

As Regina prattled on, he stared at the cross in her room thoughtfully. James was different than any being he’d really come across. No blind devotion to, or blind hatred, for that matter, of him. Not controlled by fear. Endlessly understanding. And yet, he knew practically nothing about him. Not that he cared to, but still, most creatures went out of their way to make themselves known.

Dad and the angels were straightforward about what they wanted and their firm beliefs. The Winchesters and many other humans ran on what made them feel good. Lucifer understood that. He was all anger, and that came out quite a bit because it felt good to break things. He was manipulative, but usually his subjects knew they were being manipulated.

James didn’t appear to want anything, except maybe s’mores and to take care of others. But that wasn’t a personality.

“Brad, would you be a dear and pass me my glasses?” Regina asked, mistaking Lucifer for her son who never visited. He handed them to her.

That was it. He was going to find out what made James tick, because there was something James did very well to hide underneath what he projected to the world. He was by far one of the most interesting toys in the toy box, so maybe he could be entertaining for a few weeks.

* * *

 

“It was convenient for you to pick me up, walking is so slow,” Lucifer said as he slid into James’ car. “Driving’s slow, compared to flying, but Dad significantly weakened my wing power, so I try to avoid doing it. Tires me out,” he leaned back, stretching his feet on to the dashboard.

“Put those down, please,” James said. “And I don’t mind, it’s no trouble at all. The church gave me this car to help people.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes and ignored the request. “So what do you do all day, when I’m gone?”

“Me? Oh, well, there are AA and NA meetings at the church a few days a week. We have youth groups and support groups. I do some counseling for the parishioners. I teach a Bible study class. And of course, prepare for Sunday sermons. Whatever needs doing around the church, I tend to or make the calls for. And I run out to help others as needed, such as you.”

“It sounds like you spend an awful lot of time focusing on other people, instead of your own things. You hiding from your thoughts or something like that?”

James smiled. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“What would it mean, if I were?”

Lucifer toyed with the seatbelt. “Well, it would mean there’s something under the surface ready to pop up at any time. You should deal with that.”

“I believe that would be the pot calling the kettle black, if what you’re suggesting is in fact true.”

“You’re not gonna give me anything, are you,” Lucifer complained.

“Oh, I might, but you’ll have to earn it.”

* * *

 

“What do you say we finally get around to making those s’mores?” James suggested after dinner. “I guess I never asked, but do you need to eat?”

The archangel shrugged. “Can’t really taste anything. Just molecules. I don’t need to, but I can make myself.”

“So tonight, you knew I knew you were The Devil, and you didn’t bother to mention it? You just choked down some lasagna for kicks?”

“I didn’t want to be rude.”

James actually laughed. For all the happiness he typically exuded, he didn’t usually laugh, just smiled with his eyes in amusement. “ _You_ didn’t want to be rude? Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, just—why about this, and not about other things?”

Irritated, Lucifer shrugged. “I don’t know, okay? It's, whatever. Leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry,” James apologized, his hand coming to rest over Lucifer’s. “It’s very kind of you, and the effort makes me happy, but you don’t have to suffer on my account. Next time you could just sit with me while I eat, instead.”

“Sure, because that’s not awkward,” Lucifer said, but didn’t reject the offer. “Anyway, how about I watch you eat s’mores so we can put that behind us?”

“You make it sound thrilling,” James joked, squeezing Lucifer’s hand before standing to gather the supplies. “Should I make a fire or can you...”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Let’s see if Dad’ll let me.”

They made their way to the backyard and James showed him the fire pit, his arms full of marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers. Lucifer snapped his fingers and a fire sprung to life. “You’re in luck,” he said, “these are God-ordained s’mores, made with genuine hellfire.”

James laughed again and took the skewers from Lucifer’s hand. “Thank you, this saved me a lot of work. I’m pretty bad at starting a fire, myself, typically.”

“No, you’re probably the type to put fires out, not start them.” Lucifer took a skewered marshmallow and roasted it, mostly just for the fun of it.


	11. Chapter 11

The Winchesters showed up the next morning, grumpy as ever. James welcomed them in, and they were not pleased to see Lucifer at all.

“So, let me get this straight,” Dean said, looking at Pastor James. “You know he’s the freakin’ Devil and you’re just letting him crash here, no strings attached? What, are you two shacking up or something?”

James got a smile Lucifer remembered from the car ride, when he’d accused James of running from his thoughts. “Maybe,” he said simply. “What would it mean if we were?”

“That you’re, I don’t know, a crazy person?” Dean said, incredulous.

“Pastor James,” Sam tried, “Lucifer is dangerous.”

The archangel shrugged with a grin. “Aw, Sammy, you’re just saying that because I tried to start an Apocalypse, tortured you for a hundred years, killed lots of your friends and family, and took over Cas’ vessel that time.”

James shot him a look, then returned his gaze to the Winchesters, glancing between them. “Dean, Sam, I understand the risk. What I hope is that Lucifer can fulfill God’s plan for what is effectively rehabilitation. And if not, perhaps some good will be done, despite it all. Certainly people have been helped by the charity he has offered. I do not mean to imply he could make up for the things he has done, but there is a positive way forward if he chooses it.”

Luckily, they didn’t press much further, despite being displeased at turning up no dirt on Lucifer.

When they’d gone, Lucifer stood in the closed doorway by James, silence passing as they studied each other. Cautiously, Lucifer put a hand on James’ shoulder. “Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” James said back, leaning in to the touch.

“Shacking up,” Lucifer said thoughtfully.

“Funny,” James replied. “I mean, can you imagine? Not even on my end, but if Lucifer himself was interested in a man of the cloth, a human devoted to serving God?”

“The only time I bothered copulating with a human was when I was President.”

“Well that sounds like a story I have to hear.”

* * *

 

Lucifer brought a tray of cookies and coffee to a support group at the mental health agency, as had become his Friday norm. An elderly lady stopped him before he could make his exit from a room, putting a hand on his arm. He did not like it.

“Do you know when Marjorie is going to be here? She’s usually early, but she’s not here,” the woman asked.

“Uh, no,” he took his arm away from her. “I’ll go ask.”

“Please,” she said, “I just really need to talk. None of the other girls are here, and I think… Marjorie might have said group was canceled, that she was on vacation. But I really need to talk. Jason, my husband, he’s dead,” she started to cry deep, ugly sobs, burying her face in her hands.

Lucifer’s face contorted into disgust, but he grabbed a tissue and held it out to her with pinched fingers. “Look, I can go get someone,” he started.

“No! Don’t, please!” she took the tissue. “I just—please, sit with me. It hurts.”

Reluctantly, he sat. “Look,” he said, “people die, I guess.”

She nodded, then cried harder, blowing her nose loudly into the tissue. “I miss him so much.”

“Yeah, you look pretty beat up about it.”

The lady sniffed, like she was trying to stop crying, but just ended up sobbing again. “He was such a good man. I know he was sick, but he was so full of love.”

“Well, if he was good, he’s probably in Heaven,” Lucifer ventured, “living it up with all his favorite memories of you and the rest of the people he cared about.”

“You really think?” she asked.

He shrugged. “If he was as good as you say.”

“Thank you,” she said, reaching out for him again. He dodged, standing up. “You’ve been a comfort. You’re right, he’s probably happy in Heaven, and I’ll be with him when it’s my time.”

* * *

 

“It was gross,” Lucifer said over dinner he wasn’t eating. “And probably the most uncomfortable I’ve ever been.”

James just beamed. “It’s _not_ gross, you did a good thing! She trusted you with her grief, and you gave her peace. That’s a beautiful thing.”

“Whatever,” Lucifer shrugged, “I hope I never have to do it again.”

James put a gentle hand on Lucifer’s arm, and Lucifer realized that he didn’t mind. He never minded when James touched him. Curiously, he put a hand over James’ and started toying with James’ fingers.

The Pastor pulled back. “I should head to bed,” he said, standing. “Do you even sleep?”

“I don’t have to, but I do out of sheer boredom,” Lucifer answered, standing with him. “Why, do you want company?”

James paused, then regained composure. “Oh, like the Winchester’s implied, right, I get it,” he gave a forced laugh. “I’ll see you in the morning, and if you dream, I hope it’s well.”


	12. Chapter 12

Lucifer felt like tearing his room to shreds again. He let himself out into the backyard, kicking a stone that had rolled out of the planter. He bent down and picked it up thoughtfully, then crushed it in his hand. Ground it to dust.

He grabbed another, turning it to powder too, and then more until he ran out of stones, was left sitting on the ground next to a pile of dust. So much anger, and something under it now, raw pain. Hurt he didn’t think he could ever escape, even if he burned every last thing on this planet to ash.

Sometimes he wondered about ending it all. If there was a way he could be sure, that he’d be dreamless and in the void, never to wake back up, maybe he would take the opportunity. There was no meaning for him here, or anywhere.

His fingers dug into the ground and he turned up the earth and grass. James wouldn’t be happy about it, but what did that matter?

The night passed in agony, Lucifer unable to sleep. But it did pass.

“Lucifer?” James asked gently, finding him in the yard that morning. “What’s wrong?”

Lucifer didn’t bother looking up or moving. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

James sat beside him, groaning a little as he did. “Well, you’re lying in the yard and my rock garden is destroyed.”

“You can’t garden rocks, dummy,” Lucifer quipped, “they’re not alive.”

James laughed lightly. “So, are you going to keep deflecting, or are you going to tell me what’s up?”

Lucifer finally bothered to look at him. “I’m going to keep deflecting.”

“That’s fine,” James nodded. “You don’t owe me an explanation,” he stood up with a little grunt, “just some new rocks. You know, since I can’t grow any more.”

* * *

 

“You don’t want me,” Lucifer accused as James finished loading the dishwasher and closed it, setting it to wash.

The Pastor jumped a little at Lucifer’s sudden appearance behind him, and turned to face him. James’ brow furrowed, an expression Lucifer hadn’t seen on him before. “What?”

The archangel moved closer, anger flaring up. “You don’t _want_ me! You keep touching me and I thought that meant—” he threw up his hands in frustration, turning away. “Never mind. You made it clear the idea’s ridiculous.”

“Lucifer,” he lifted his hand automatically, then stopped himself. “I don’t understand. Of course I want you here. I’ll stop touching you if it bothers you, I promise, I’m sorry.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about!” He turned on his heel. “It doesn’t matter, forget it,” he said, heading for the front door.

“Wait, did you think—”

Lucifer didn’t wait to hear the end of the sentence, and cut it off with a slam of the door behind him. He started walking in the direction of town, that pain and anger swirling again.

By the time he reached the library, he was pretty sure he’d keep it together. All he had to do was just avoid James. Go back to the motel or whatever he had to do. Implicit rejection was bad enough, he didn’t need it spoken out loud.

“Mister Luke, Mister Luke!” a little boy ran up to him, promptly attaching himself to The Devil’s leg. “I want a story about princesses today!”

“Princesses, really?” he ruffled the boy’s hair. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The kid’s eyes lit up. “You’re not gonna tell me princesses are for girls?”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “Well that would be a stupid thing to say. Do people really say that to you?”

The boy nodded.

“Well, you tell them I’ll squeeze their eyes out, then we’ll see who princesses are for,” Lucifer patted the kid’s head, moving on.

The child stared in horror.

* * *

 

Lucifer had made a point to stay away from James’ house for a few days, but he was supposed to see Connor today and had promised the kid he’d have a car to go to a baseball game. He’d been counting on James’, and that meant he either had to either go back on his word to Connor or face the Pastor.

He paced outside the house, debating which would be worse, when the decision was made for him and the Pastor opened the front door.

“You can come in; I won’t ask questions if you don’t want me to. We don’t even have to talk about what happened.”

Lucifer stopped to look at him. “Yeah, that would be… better.” He climbed the steps up to the house and walked inside past James.

“Just one question, actually. What do you need?”

“What?”

“I don’t think you would have come back unless you needed something. That’s fine, but how can I help?”

Lucifer studied his eyes, getting a little lost. “I, uh, need your car.”

James stared back, swallowing thickly. “Okay. Just bring it back by the end of the night,” he forced himself to break the gaze and reached for the keys on the counter, holding them out to Lucifer.

Lucifer stepped in closer, taking them. “I will,” he agreed, tilting his head a little and looking back in James’ dark eyes again. He could have sworn James moved forward slightly, head tilting opposite.

Lucifer leaned forward.

“Okay,” James said, turning his head and stepping away.

“Oh, come on!” Lucifer shoved the keys in his pocket so he wouldn’t crush them, and felt his hand curl into a fist. “You’re really doing this to me?”

“I-”

“Don’t you dare say you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Lucifer growled. Humiliating. Infuriating and humiliating. He should just kill him.

James’ brows creased. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t know!” he yelled. “Nothing fills the hole! Even if I get back into Daddy’s good graces and have my home and family again, it will mean _nothing_! They abandoned me, betrayed me, I can never trust them again!”

James moved like he wanted to touch him, but restrained himself. “You deserved better,” he said quietly.

“I was so loyal and strong that I was punished for it, made to take a mark that corrupted me. I deserved better!” he grabbed his hair, clenched his teeth. “There’s nothing here for me. Nothing back there for me. What is the _point_ ,” he slammed his fist down on the counter, not caring how it broke, “of this whole ‘redemption arc?’ Why bother?”

“I like you more than I should,” James admitted, soft-spoken but clear. “I’m so sorry that my actions led you to more frustration. I want to make things better for you, not worse.”

Lucifer’s eyes burned red as he looked down at the Pastor. “What’s the point of you trying?”

James looked back, hand lifting again like he wanted to reach out and touch the archangel. “You matter. More than in a general sense,” he drew closer again without fully realizing it.

Lucifer grabbed the hand that had started to reach out and tugged him close. James had enough time to register that he was flush against the archangel’s chest before Lucifer leaned down and kissed him.


	13. Chapter 13

James pulled away, looking stricken. “It’s not…” he trailed off, searching for the words.

Lucifer was rage and fire inside. “It’s not right? It’s some sort of _sin_?” he said the last word mockingly. “We shouldn’t, because I’m me and you’re a man of my Father?”

“No!” James interrupted. “No, that’s not it at all!”

“Then why not?” he seethed.

James grabbed his hand, and Lucifer let him. “You can’t fill that hole with a relationship with me. And I think it would feel really good for a little bit, maybe for years, but that you’d stop working on what you need to work on. I can’t be the only thing tying you to meaning, to purpose,” he looked at Lucifer meaningfully.

“So I’m not good enough for you, yet? Is that it? I’m too much work?”

“You’re twisting my words. I’m right here, wanting to be with you through all of this, but I won’t let our relationship be a substitute for healing. You said there’s nothing here for you, and nothing back home. That means when I die, or if you get tired of me, you’re right back to where you are now if you don’t find some other meaning for life. It’s not a good idea to do this now, no matter how much I want to.”

Some of the shame and anger faded. Lucifer turned, and James released his hand to let him. “And what if I can’t find anything?”

“I don’t believe that for a minute.”

* * *

 

“You have a fight with your girlfriend?” Connor asked as he got in the car. “Because I don’t want to hear about it if you did.”

Lucifer repeated the words in a mocking voice. “You’re kind of a jerk, kid, you know that?”

Connor shrugged, and turned up the radio in the car.

They got to the ballpark and Lucifer bought the kid a hot dog and soda with money from the mentor program. After settling into their seats, the tension eased a little.

“Hope no one sees me here with you,” Connor quipped, smiling slightly.

“Same, bro,” Lucifer said mockingly, but there was no bite to it. “Which team do you want to win?”

“Home team, obviously.”

“Then I guess I’ll root for the other team. Hey, you know what would be really fun, is if we sang some of those baseball songs.” Lucifer began to belt out ‘Take Me Out to the Ball Game,’ and Connor punched his arm. “Ow, hey! Violent!” he complained, pretending to be offended.

“Just watch the game, doofus.”

* * *

 

“You’re back,” James seemed pleased, and like he hadn’t been sure Lucifer would return with the car.

Lucifer handed over the keys. “Yeah, sure, I said I would be.”

“I know, you did. Are you okay?”

“Dandy,” he lied flatly, standing in the doorway, shuffling a foot.

“You can come in, use your room,” James suggested.

The archangel shrugged, but stepped inside past James. “This is gonna be weird,” he tried to grin at James, but he felt sick inside.

“Maybe a little,” James agreed, “but it’s worth it to have you around.”

“What?” Lucifer’s brows knitted in confusion. “You’re saying you’re not just being nice, you actually want me around?”

“Yes,” James said earnestly, “that’s what I was trying to express before. I want you here, I want to be here for you. The more I get to know you, the more I care, personally, about you.”

Lucifer felt that rage, that desire to break, boil under the surface.

James paused, searching his face. “You get mad every time I say that I care about you or show compassion,” he said softly.

“What? That’s crazy!”

James shook his head. “No, it’s not. Remember what I said before, that hearing it from a stranger was hard because your own family wouldn’t give you that? I think that’s why you get angry. I’m saying things they should have said to you. Caring for you how they should have cared.”

Lucifer stared, torn.

“Family, God, it’s supposed to be unconditional. Here’s a world filled with many people that believe in God’s unconditional love. Except it wasn’t, when it came to you.”

He wanted to punch something, but somewhere in the back of his head he remembered how much work it took to fix things, and he still needed to fix the ridiculous rock garden and counter from earlier.

James seemed to debate reaching out for him again, so Lucifer decided for him. He turned, stalking off to the guest room without another word.


	14. Chapter 14

Things almost went back to normal over the next few weeks, and he and James managed to avoid discussing anything too serious. James seemed to be giving him time to digest everything, and for that, Lucifer was glad. James, seeing how carefully Lucifer had fixed the damage he’d caused, asked if Lucifer might be willing to help a parishioner with some household repairs. Figuring it would help boost his image, he agreed.

Lucifer barely acknowledged the owner, just enough to know what the job was, but he lost himself in the work. Carefully blending drywall, blending new paint in with the old to hide the edges. Carefully placing and grouting tile. He worked tirelessly, in combination with grace to speed up drying and setting times, and emerged several hours later to a gleeful homeowner.

James greeted him upon arrival at the house, and Lucifer set the car keys on the counter with routine.

“You’re kind of glowing,” James noted, bringing his plate to the dinner table.

Lucifer looked at his arms, then realized James didn’t mean literally. “Am I?” He sat across from the Pastor, studying his face.

James, not noticing, nodded and cut the food on his plate. “You are. I wonder if you had a good time, helping out?”

“I dunno, I guess it reminds me of when I created things. Stars, galaxies. Designs for creatures.”

“I had no idea you did that,” James looked at him, fascinated. The attention was a little much, and Lucifer looked away. “Did you like making things?”

Lucifer looked back at him. “Yeah, I did. Made me feel, I don’t know, powerful, but in a good way.”

“Like a sense of purpose?”

“Maybe. But I can’t do that anymore. I could only create those things in the presence of my Father, and Daddy doesn’t like to play with us measly angels anymore. We got boring, I guess. Too dramatic, maybe.”

James nodded. “Did you ever let yourself grieve that loss? That you were supposed to have your Father with you, forever, have your home and family, and everything was taken from you? I don’t think I could recover from something like that very easily.”

“Angels don’t exactly go for that kind of thing,” he scrunched up his face as he said it, then relaxed the muscles. “My family is more of the ‘repress your emotions until you can justify righteously blowing up at someone’ and releasing steam that way.”

“Ah, the epitome of health,” James joked.

Lucifer pointed a finger at him. “Exactly.”

“I do hope you know I was kidding. Your family could probably use some counseling.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucifer kicked his feet up on the table, then put them back down when James gave him a look. “Jeez, so uptight. You should really let me help you relax.”

James raised an eyebrow. “I think your definition of relaxing might be different than mine.”

Lucifer offered a half-smile and crossed his arms. “You know, I will say you’re way too relaxed around Satan for a Pastor.”

“Mhmm,” James acknowledged as he swallowed. “But what can I say? I trust you.”

That declaration set him on edge. “You trust me?”

“I think there’s a lot more good in you than you give yourself credit for, and I think it’s grown since we first met.”

Lucifer got up and left for his room.

* * *

 

James knocked on his door later that evening and handed Lucifer a piece of paper when the archangel answered. “This is a charity that helps build homes for those in need,” he explained. “I thought you might be interested.”

“Sounds like it might be better than some of those other gigs,” Lucifer agreed. “I’ll give it a shot.”

James smiled, and Lucifer locked eyes with him. “You know,” James said, sounding smaller than usual, “I hope one day I can compliment you and you won’t have to leave the room or get angry.”

Lucifer promptly closed the door on him before he did something he shouldn’t.

* * *

 

And on the mark of three months, God appeared at the door. James didn’t know who it was until Lucifer stared, frozen in the kitchen, at him.

“Why are you here?” Lucifer asked, defensive. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I’m here to check in, that’s all,” Chuck replied, helping himself to the cookie jar on the counter. “Hm. These are good. Maybe should have a little more sugar.”

Lucifer snatched it out of his hand. “You’re supposed to ask him first,” he slapped the cookie on the counter. “This is his house, not yours.”

Chuck smiled, turning to James. “It’s good to finally meet you. I know taking care of my son isn’t exactly easy or rewarding, but you’ve faithfully applied yourself to the task.”

James blinked rapidly, trying to believe what he was seeing. “I- I don’t feel that way. I think- well, it’s been very rewarding getting to know him. Sir. Your Holiness?”

“Just Chuck is fine,” God said.

James nodded.

“So you’ve checked in, you’ve probably been watching this whole time anyway, now go,” Lucifer said, arms crossed tightly as he stood protectively by the cookie jar.

Chuck sighed. “I thought you wanted me to spend more time with you.”

“If I may, Chuck,” James interjected before Lucifer could escalate the situation. “He has a lot of trauma to move past. I think apologizing could go a long way.”

“Apologizing? I already apologized. Back when you helped me with Amara.”

“That wasn’t about everything you did wrong!” Lucifer spat. “And then you left me. Again. No remorse.”

Chuck slumped his shoulders. “I had to reconcile with Amara, I had no choice but to leave again. I’m sorry you felt abandoned.”

“Just go. I don’t want to see you right now. I’m doing fine, no thanks to you.” He grabbed the cookie jar and stormed off to his room.

James watched Lucifer go, then turned back to God when the archangel slammed the bedroom door. “You might want to work on your apologies.”

Chuck didn’t bother to look up from the ground, and simply vanished.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor trigger warning, nothing graphic, but it's implied someone tries to sexually assault someone.

James rapped on the door to Lucifer’s room. “Can I come in?” he asked.

“Suit yourself,” Lucifer called back, and the door opened to reveal the archangel sitting on the bed, legs outstretched and arms crossed.

“Can I have my cookie jar back?” he smiled, catching Lucifer off guard.

Lucifer handed it to him. “That’s so like him, you know? Walking around like he owns the place. Showing up with half-baked apologies.”

“I can certainly see where your inability to apologize comes from, God forgive me,” James replied.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “You saying you don’t like him, either?”

James perched on the edge of the desk, sitting on it just enough that his legs dangled. “I’m not saying that at all. I’m saying there are some behaviors that you share.”

“You stuck up for me,” Lucifer pointed out. “You didn’t let him get away with insulting me.”

“I’m not sure he was trying to insult you,” he felt compelled to defend God. After all, it was in the job description.

“I’m angry,” Lucifer said. “I think he wanted to see what I would do, make sure this wouldn’t send me into some homicidal spree. Which is exactly what I want to do.”

“But you’re not doing that,” James touched his shoulder. “You’re here with me.”

Lucifer looked up, and suddenly moved in front of James, standing close with his arms on either side of James as he leaned in. “I’ve been thinking about leaving,” he said quietly. “Not because I don’t want to be here, but because I want to travel with the charity you showed me, building homes. And when I come back, if that’s where I find meaning,” he touched the side of James’ face gently, “I want you to stop fighting this.”

James’ lips parted and he nodded. “Okay,” he managed to say. Lucifer pressed closer, and James could feel the archangel between his hips. “You’re sure I’m what _you_ want?”

“Sounds like I’m not the only one that needs to work on myself. Where’s your confidence?” He bent closer to James’ neck. “Why don’t you tell me where that comes from, since you seem to know all about me, now.”

“I- Don’t distract-” James let out a small cry as Lucifer’s lips pressed against his skin. “My last relationship,” he admitted.

“Good boy,” Lucifer said, sending a shiver through James. He sucked the sensitive spot on his neck, earning another, longer whine. “Such a good boy. You’re going to wait for me while I’m gone, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he promised.

Lucifer let his free hand slide from James’ shoulder to his waist. “I should probably let you go for the night.”

James nodded. “That’s probably the wise thing to do.” Lucifer brought his head up so their lips met, and this time, James kissed back. Then, the archangel dragged himself away, letting him up off the desk. “Don’t forget,” he said, before he left through the door, “you’re mine now.”

“I like this side of you,” Lucifer grinned.

“Tell me before you go.”

“Of course.”

* * *

 

Six days later, he joined the mobile work crew on a bus bound 200 miles south in a disaster area. Apparently there had been some sort of hurricane and significant damage from flooding, and Lucifer agreed to give a month of his time. He’d also agreed to keep in touch with James.

“Hey,” a woman dropped into the seat next to him, “I’m Erin, nice to meet you.”

Lucifer gave a forced smile and only looked briefly at her in acknowledgement. “Luke.”

“Have you ever done one of these trips before?” Erin asked.

“No.”

“It’s so rewarding. Don’t worry, if you have any questions, just let me know.”

Lucifer pretended to sleep so she would leave him alone, and he wondered if this whole thing was a mistake.

* * *

 

The crew collectively decided to stop at a bar near their hotel, and Lucifer figured he might as well tag along. The ride had been boring, and any time he showed signs of being awake, Erin had tried talking to him. He ordered a beer, not that it would do anything for him, and sat watching the people he’d be spending the next month with.

“Stop it,” Erin playfully pushed one of the men off of her, but something under that seemed like she was serious.

The man relented, Michael, his name turned out to be. Figures.

After getting through the night with limited social engagement, they trekked outside back toward their lodgings. As they walked, Lucifer noticed Erin was missing. He checked; so was Michael.

Breaking off from the group noiselessly, Lucifer made his way back toward the bar, peering into alleyways until he saw them.

“Help! Get off of me!” Erin said before being knocked out cold.

Michael looked up, noticing him.

Lucifer’s eyes flashed red and the shadows of his wings appeared in the glowing light he emanated. An angel blade dropped from his sleeve. “You sure screwed up tonight, didn’t you, ham hands?”


	16. Chapter 16

“Listen, so, I’m not sure if this counts as being on good behavior, but I killed someone,” Lucifer said over the phone as he walked back to the hotel.

“Pretty sure God says ‘thou shalt not kill,’” Pastor James replied blandly. “Pretty sure it’s the opposite of good behavior.”

Lucifer scoffed. “Yeah, right. The flooding? The plagues? The Crusades and Inquisitions in my Dad’s name? I think there’s some wiggle room with this one.”

James didn’t dignify him with an answer.

“Anyway, this douche knocked a girl out and was about to get handsy without her consent, so I’m _pretty sure_ that should count as a good deed. Dean and Sam Winchester kill people all the time, and Dad practically eats out of their hands. They slaughtered angels left and right, but they can’t do anything wrong.”

“Well all of that sounds like a story for another time,” James said, “and I have a feeling your Father might kick you back to day one for this. You didn’t have to kill him; you could have called the police and had him sent to jail.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes, even though James obviously couldn’t see him. “Why, so he could get off with a warning and put some other woman in danger? It was the moral thing to do.”

“You didn’t seem convinced of that at the start of this conversation,” James reminded.

“Well, now I am. Anyway, I’m looking forward to putting this behind me and getting started with what I came here for. You still love me?”

James sighed. “I suppose so.”

“Come on, that’s not very nice,” Lucifer pouted.

“I love you,” James said sincerely, this time. “I had kind of hoped to save the first time saying that for in person, but there it is.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” Lucifer said, suddenly uncomfortable, and hung up.

* * *

 

“Michael was found dead!” someone screamed, unpleasantly waking Lucifer up the next morning.

“What?” he gasped, feigning shock. “No!”

“Yes!” the girl said. “Erin was found passed out by his body, and he’d been stabbed to death! How could anyone do this!?”

“Is Erin okay?” he asked, trying to match her level of frantic.

The girl nodded. “She’s in the hospital for observation, but they think she’s fine, just a minor concussion.”

The rest of the crew began chiming in with questions about services and memorials and things Lucifer had to try really hard to pretend he cared about.

* * *

 

“People are upset,” he told James on the phone later that night.

“Well, what did you expect?”

“Listen,” Lucifer said, “okay? I don’t need lip.” He gestured with one hand as he walked, frowning into the phone. “They think it’s going to be another week before we start building, now. I’m thinking of just leaving. They say they’re in mourning, what a bunch of crap.”

“Lucifer,” James said gently, “they didn’t know what he was like. In their eyes, he was a fellow humanitarian who was brutally stabbed to death in senseless violence. I don’t think what you did was justified by any means, but I think you wanted to do good. I also think it’s a good idea for you to stay. It’s the only way to really understand what death and grief does to people, whether or not you share their sentiment. How many times have you watched people grieve after you’ve hurt the ones they loved?”

“Never,” Lucifer admitted, voice full of complaint.

“And maybe you’ll learn what grief is, so that you can grieve what you’ve lost.”

“You’re no fun,” he groaned.

“You’ll be in my prayers tonight, as always,” James said gently, getting ready to hang up.

Lucifer couldn’t help smiling at that. “Not that someone of your stature would pray to The Devil, but all angels can hear prayers directed to them, FYI.”

“I did not know that.”

“Usually all I get’s’a buncha kids thinking it’s fun to worship me for kicks. They keep it up a couple months then get bored. You know, one time I sat on Dad’s throne and heard everyone’s prayers to _him_. That was trippy. Never had many people believe in me expecting me to do good things.”

James hummed. “Maybe that’s the problem. I absolutely know you can do good things.”

“Right. Good night.”


	17. Chapter 17

The work crew gathered in the park to hold a brief service for Michael, and Lucifer could not have been more bored. He sat in the back with Erin, who gave him a searching look. Lucifer made a ‘what can you do’ face, his arms crossed and one leg up over the other as he sat, making a triangular shape between them.

“Hey,” Lucifer said, his voice low. “I know what he was trying to do to you.”

She nodded.

“You look a little down.”

Erin just nodded again.

“I know what’ll cheer you up,” he said, sitting up straight and planting his feet on the ground. “Watch this.” He snapped his fingers, getting a little smirk, and at first nothing happened. He wondered if maybe his powers had been suspended.

The woman speaking turned around as someone tapped her on the shoulder, and at first the group didn’t see who it was. Not until she screamed.

Michael, stab marks and all, stood before them, features twisted in an unsettling, inhuman way. And then the body was flying toward a tree, stopping beneath it to stretch its neck out as a noose flew down to greet it. “I tried to hurt Erin,” Michael said, as the group watched in horror, frozen in place. He sputtered as he was yanked upward by the rope. The crew turned to face Erin, who was crying.

“Run!” someone finally yelled, and as if they’d been waiting for permission, they fled.

Only Lucifer and Erin remained, and the archangel snapped his fingers, gleeful. The body and rope vanished, no evidence to suggest anything strange had happened at all. “Oh, man. Sure showed them! Wasn’t that great?”

“What are you?” Erin asked, afraid and still weeping.

“Come on, you didn’t enjoy that? I thought you’d love seeing him get what he deserves, being exposed for what he was,” Lucifer tried to convince her, face falling as he realized.

Erin wiped at her face with the heels of her palms. “He’s dead! He was awful, but he’s dead, Luke!”

Lucifer took the time to study her, honing in on her emotions. Guilt. Disgust. Fear. Shame.

She took one last look at him, then ran.

* * *

 

He didn’t understand. Shouldn’t she have wanted to see Michael suffer? He had hurt her, had been planning to hurt her worse. Disgust he could get; at least if it had been all outward. Michael had been a disgusting human, worse than most of them. Fear, yeah, maybe it could have been scary to see what appeared to be a corpse, floating around all mangled. But the inward disgust, the guilt, the shame—like she was blaming herself for what happened. Trying to be who she used to be, but scarred.

Traumatized. The Pastor had called what Lucifer had been through ‘trauma,’ and Lucifer had brushed that off. Sure, bad things had happened, but he didn’t think it had changed him. He was angry, but if Dad would just apologize, things would go back the way they were.

Truthfully, he hadn’t believed that in a while, now. He was never going to have that bond with his Father again, never going to feel at home in Heaven with angels who despised him, distrusted him. Maybe if he had just been strong enough, had just been able to bear The Mark all those years ago, been obedient enough…

* * *

 

Erin didn’t rat him out. When he finally returned to the hotel that night, no one acted differently around him, having no idea he was the one who had caused the terrifying experience earlier. He went to bed early, not having the inclination to stay at the bar and drink with the rest of them.

Unfortunately, he laid awake in the dark, unable to fall asleep. It wasn’t fair. He had tried so hard to be perfect, and it hadn’t been enough to retain his Father’s love. He was branded the black sheep, his grace stained with the soils of Hell, and what happened could never be scrubbed out.

Despite placing the blame on others, there was a part of him he’d shoved down for so long he’d forgotten it existed until now. Self-hatred. Not only for failing as Jack’s father, but for the string of failures, the stigma around him that he’d lived up to instead of fighting. It felt like he could never stop hating them, or himself, so what was the use in trying?

Lucifer fell asleep, cold and hollow.

* * *

 

The week slogged by, and Lucifer felt himself turn more and more inward. James left messages that he didn’t bother to play, didn’t feel he deserved to hear the kind words that were likely there. He kept to himself, too tired to run, too tired to go anywhere. The crew was so focused on their own grief that they didn’t question him lying in bed all day, or pester him when he declined their offers to go anywhere.

_Maybe I can just lie here and rot and everyone would be happier._

He was bored, but had no motivation to even try to relieve it.

He was lonely, but he didn’t deserve company.

He was angry, but that just made him tired, and it never seemed to get him anywhere.

He was sorrowful, but wouldn’t allow himself comfort.


	18. Chapter 18

Lucifer finally left the room when someone told him they’d be starting work on houses that day. Finally. It felt like he’d been here months, like he’d been stuck in an endless loop of bad.

He dragged himself to the build site, riding in silence, catching Erin looking at him with worry every so often. They were given a run down of their tasks, and even though he didn’t feel like it, he needed to do something. Holding a hammer felt like the weight of a galaxy, but he threw himself into the work and focused only on the banging sound, the coming together of wood and other things, and the sounds of his team’s grief slowly leaving.

It was several more days before his own pain and emptiness began to recede, and he got up the energy to send a quick text to James, just letting him know that all was okay.

James tried calling a few more times after that, but Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to answer.

Though he missed the Pastor, day by day, he felt better.

* * *

 

Building houses was satisfying. Different from creating cosmic bodies, which was good, because it didn’t make him think so much of his Father. But close enough that his muscle memory evoked positive feelings he’d long since assumed crushed out of him.

Destruction had always been a release, but without lasting gains. Creating something to be used long term, to clean up a disaster area, sparked a deep contentment he hadn’t remembered feeling since back then. This time, the contentment wasn’t tied to his Dad. It had a sense of self-efficacy and success on his own.

When the project manager asked the team to stay another month, Lucifer agreed, only sending a quick text to James to let him know.

James had stopped calling, and some hurt was festering there, guilt that he was pushing him away and a churning up of loneliness, but the rest of Lucifer felt full.

“Hey,” Erin put a hand on his shoulder, “we’re cleaning up for the day.”

Her easy-going nature was gone, but she had seemed to be healing, too. And she wasn’t afraid of him, anymore. Lucifer nodded.

“You going to come out with us tonight?”

“You know, I will,” Lucifer decided.

She smiled and left him to clean her workspace, and he brushed the dust from his gloves, hitting them together in a swiping motion a few times.

* * *

 

Erin took the spot next to him at the bar, separate from the rest of the group. Lucifer lifted his beer in acknowledgement.

“So,” she began, “I know you killed a man to protect me, you make sadistic jokes to cheer people up, and you’re good at building. Also, just a minor side note, you’re not a regular human.”

Lucifer sighed, then scrunched up his face. “Do we have to talk about this?”

“You don’t have to do anything. But I’d like to know what the hell’s your deal.”

“You know,” he pointed at her, “you are right on the money there, and you don’t even know it.”

She stared, uncomprehending.

The archangel sat his beer down on the bar. “Hell is exactly my deal,” he hinted.

“A demon?”

“Close enough,” he shrugged, turning away from her to face forward.

“Well, what’s a demon doing building houses for hurricane victims?”

“Let’s call it penance.”

“Well,” she said again, “you’re not all bad, I guess. You’re pretty bad, but Michael was probably worse. Doesn’t mean I wanted to see him hurt or flung around like a rag doll, though.”

Lucifer shrugged. “There’s no accounting for taste, I guess. I thought it was a spectacular performance.”

Erin huffed in annoyed amusement. “Anyway, though I wish you’d done it a different way that ended with Michael still being alive, I wanted to thank you for that. Now hopefully we can never speak again, once this job is over.”


	19. Chapter 19

_Archangel Lucifer, who hath been avoiding my calls and ignoring me in general,_

came the start of a prayer that made Lucifer sit upright in bed, one night.

_You know, I’m not sure the fancy language is required, but it just seemed right. I hope you hear me. I don’t want to intrude, but I miss you terribly and I’m worried about you. I’m also hurt, because we were supposed to keep in touch, and it makes me wonder if you want to continue this relationship or not._

Lucifer sighed, knowing he had been crappy lately.

_Please hear my prayer, Archangel Lucifer. I pray to you for clarity and for comfort. I pray that you are learning and maybe even finding peace, even if it isn’t with me. I pray to the Archangel Lucifer that he may find wholeness and love, and be met with kindness in this world._

It should have been sacrilegious, to have a Pastor praying to The Devil. It should have been all kinds of wrong. Lucifer’s breath caught in his throat and he brought a hand up, not comprehending the feeling.

_I pray to the Archangel Lucifer that he knows himself to have goodness somewhere inside, and that he may be surrounded by the kind of compassion that elicits that goodness. I pray that the path he is on, even if he is in a dark place right now, is one that leads him to a life of meaning and peace and kindness. That he can move into the future and work toward the greater good._

He swallowed thickly, reaching for his phone blindly in the dark. He opened it, hovering over the call button for James’ number.

_Amen._

James answered on the first ring. “You heard me?” he asked.

“Yeah, I did,” Lucifer said, not knowing how to respond to all the things James had said. “I’m… sorry for not calling and for ignoring you.”

“Thank you for saying so. Are you okay?”

“Hold on,” Lucifer said, pulling on his shoes before stepping out in to the hallway. He started heading for the stairs to go outside. “Just getting away from my roomies,” he tried to sound light, but failed. James was patient, as always. Once he’d stepped into the warm night air, he continued. “I’m fine. There was a week or so I wasn’t, and it’s been slow going getting any sort of motivation for life back, but I’m okay now. I think.”

“Is that why you didn’t call?”

Lucifer kicked a pebble on the ground. “I didn’t call because I don’t deserve you. But… the things you were praying,” he exhaled, “they were hard to hear. Such uncalled for devotion, but I guess look who I’m talking to, who you worship.”

“I want you to come home,” James said gently. “But more than that, I want you to heal.”

“I’ll be home in two days, I promise.”

* * *

 

Feeling lighter, Lucifer stepped off the bus in town and looked around. Strange. James should have been there to pick him up, but maybe he was held up somewhere. He started walking, content to be on familiar roads and headed toward James.

He made it to the Pastor’s house within an hour, and was confused to see the car in the driveway. He rapped on the door. “Your hot boyfriend is home!” he yelled, not caring who might hear it.

Lucifer’s levity drained immediately when the door opened.

A demon stood before him, wearing James’ face and body. “Hello, _Boss_ , long time no see,” he hissed, coming out all wrong in James’ voice.

“Get out,” Lucifer’s eyes flashed red.

“I don’t think you want me to do that. See, I’ve been riding him pretty hard, if you know what I mean, and he might just die if I leave. Seeing as you’re his boyfriend, I don’t think you’d like that.”

Lucifer stepped forward, pushing the demon back, and closed the door. He stood taller, tilting his head up, and displayed his wings in a show of power.

The demon stared back, defiant. “I know you can’t smite me. Your Daddy took your powers. And even if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t risk your little boy toy.”

Lucifer grabbed the demon by the shirt, James’ shirt, and pulled him close. “There are other options that will leave him alive.” He thrust his other hand to the demon’s face, to James’ face, and felt himself surge with power. The demon began to scream, in James’ voice, and it was terrible, it was a scream he never wanted to hear again. He exorcised the demon slowly, healing the broken parts of James’ body as he went. It was excruciating to hear, and for the demon, excruciating to feel, and it brought the carefully controlled violent tendencies to Lucifer’s surface. The archangel extricated the demon, and James collapsed to the floor, awake enough to watch Lucifer holding the thick black smoke between his hands, electricity sparking through it.

“Lucifer, stop,” he begged, voice hoarse.

“Even for a demon? You want me to let even a demon continue to live, after what he did to you?”

“Yes,” James pleaded.

With a growl of frustration, Lucifer let go of the smoke, casting it down to Hell. “I hope you’re happy,” he was still fuming, having trouble coming back down. “There’s another demon still around because of you.”

“I know,” he said, still catching his breath. “Thank you.”


	20. Chapter 20

Lucifer gave James a once-over to make sure he was okay, then tried to make himself relax. James was okay. He was never going to let this happen again. “Take my hand,” Lucifer ordered, holding it out. James obeyed, and Lucifer flew.

James fell to his knees when they landed, barely able to hold in the contents of his stomach.

“What the hell are you doing here?” came a gruff voice. The Pastor looked up to see the boys that had questioned him months ago.

“Come on, Dean, _Sam_ , aren’t you happy to see me?”

“We’re actually never happy to see you,” a third person said.

“Cassie, come on, we were bosom buddies! We’ve shared the same vessel, we’ve fought side by side,” he teased.

“You may call me Castiel, and _none_ of those times you mentioned were positive experiences.”

Lucifer sighed, put-upon. “Come on, I’m here for an eensy bit of help, it should be no trouble for your boys here.”

“What do you need?” Sam asked.

“I need you to hook him up with some anti-possession tats,” Lucifer finally said.

“What?” James asked, finally.

Lucifer turned to him, eyes still slightly wild. “I should have done this sooner, and because I didn’t, you were possessed by a demon and could have died. If you’re a target because of me, you need protection.”

James got to his feet. “I’m not arguing, I just had no idea that kind of thing existed.”

“Sure,” Sam said, “I’ll get you a copy of the design, and any tattoo shop should be able to do it.”

* * *

 

Lucifer didn’t relax any until they were home, James safely marked so he would never be possessed again. Still, the archangel didn’t want to let James out of his sight.

“Do you know if… did the demon do anything in public that could hurt your life here?” Lucifer asked as James fixed dinner. “Because altering people’s memories, that’s a thing I can do.”

“No, and I hope you refrain from using that particular ability,” James replied, stirring the pan. He looked over at Lucifer, who was eying him like something else could happen at any minute. “I want to thank you for saving me, and for not killing that demon.”

“Well, saving you wasn’t the bad part. But you’re welcome.”

James turned the burner to a simmer, then made his way to where Lucifer was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Lucifer dropped his guard, pushing off the wall and bringing his hands to either side of James’ face.

“I love you,” James told him.

Lucifer leaned in and kissed him, and kissed him some more, as one hand slid into James’ hair. He tugged lightly at it and dropped his other hand to the Pastor’s neck. James made a small noise and pressed his body closer, and Lucifer backed him toward the kitchen counter. Cradling James’ head, he leaned him back over it and began lightly suckling his neck. “Mine,” he warned.

* * *

 

It was a year from killing the human Michael that Lucifer finally felt his full power return. Living with James was a quiet, content life, the furthest from what he ever thought he wanted. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mention what happened, right away.

“It’s back,” he said three days later, before James drifted off to sleep.

James rolled over in bed, looking up at him with concern in the dark. “What’s back?”

“The full use of my grace. Which technically means I’m allowed back in Heaven now, I guess?”

“Oh.” James looked down at the blanket under them. “How does that change things, for us?”

Lucifer shrugged. “I can protect you better. We can go on vacation more easily. I can conjure things you need for free. Well, maybe you’ll have to pay in other ways,” he waggled his eyebrows.

“So you’re not going to leave me?”

“Not until you come to your senses and kick me out. A Pastor screwing Satan? Highly inappropriate, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t,” James quipped, and yawned. “I should get some sleep, I have a tough sermon to give tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here,” Lucifer promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me through this! I enjoyed making this, and I hope it was a fun ride.


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